


Exposure

by wedjateye



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:41:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wedjateye/pseuds/wedjateye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gojyo's world tilts. Pre-journey, post hair-cutting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exposure

Faint light spills from around the edges of the curtains, and Gojyo feels the twisted knot his belly has harboured for the last couple of hours begin to loosen. Sure enough, Hakkai is still… Hakkai is making tea.

“You don’t have to wait up for me, you know,” Gojyo says gruffly, sitting in what has become his customary chair, since Hakkai claimed the opposite one.

Hakkai looks momentarily surprised, before twinkling politely as he hands Gojyo his mug. “It isn’t that late Gojyo,” he observes gently.

“Oh?” Warmth flushes along Gojyo’s neck. “I guess it isn’t. The cards just fell right. No need to be greedy. Makes for sore losers.”

He jams one hand in his pocket, feeling coins jangle around the wad of bills. He hasn’t worked out how to do this yet. How to ask Hakkai what he needs. He usually ends up leaving the pile on the table before he goes to bed at night. Hoping it is enough. Afraid it may be too much.

The silence suddenly feels oppressive, and Gojyo takes a large gulp of hot liquid, forcing his throat to swallow as he stares at the interlocking rings that stain the tabletop from a week of drinking tea. Water splashing into the sink behind him draws him from his reverie. He waits for Hakkai to finish washing his mug, then quietly bid him goodnight as has become his ritual.

Instead he feels a prickle crawl along his spine. He could swear Hakkai is standing there, just looking at him. Gojyo’s breath hitches as a feather light touch brushes against the back of his bandana.

“Why did you cut it?” Hakkai asks, voice low and heavy.

“I… It was time to stop hiding.”

“Oh.”

Gojyo closes his eyes, imagines Hakkai standing there, fingertips poised in the space between them. Doesn’t quite dare to breathe, until he feels the barest stirring of the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Why do you cover it then?”

There is an urgency underlying the words. An appeal that Gojyo can’t interpret. Not when Hakkai is tugging at his bandana, working it free in one slow slide, thousands of hair endings flicking loose against Gojyo’s skin until it tingles.

“Hakkai,” he rasps, the name an unfamiliar shape in his mouth.

A startled gasp alerts Gojyo to the fact that his hand has shot out, unbidden, to capture Hakkai’s wrist and pull. Gojyo can’t look, doesn’t want to see the expression on Hakkai’s face. He hopes that the lack of resistance means that the world is tilting for Hakkai as well. He feels Hakkai sinking to his knees beside him, and although that isn’t quite what Gojyo had in mind, that’s ok too, because it feels as if Gojyo will be sliding off his chair any moment now to join him.

But he never makes it that far, because Hakkai’s mouth catches his on the way down, and Hakkai’s hand presses warmly over Gojyo’s hammering heartbeat, and all Gojyo can think is how strange it is that Hakkai’s lips are so sweet when he never puts any sugar in his tea.

When Gojyo finally breaks away to pant, Hakkai slides the fingers of one hand along Gojyo’s scalp, to tangle in the longer hair at his crown.

“I never got to do this.” He darts a quick, wistful smile at Gojyo. “Before, I mean.”

“I’ll grow it out again,” Gojyo promises.

The sadness in Hakkai’s eyes lightens; his voice is warm.

“I’d like that.”


End file.
